


Put Your Hand In Mine

by Shaleschnueffler



Category: Kings of Con (Web Series), Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Bad Luck, Best Friends, Break Up, Conventions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Roller Coaster, Episode: s01 e14 Las Vegas NV, Friendship, Gen, Hugs, Jealousy, Las Vegas Wedding, Late at Night, Lies, Losing Touch, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oblivious, POV Third Person, Post-Canon, R2 - Freeform, Rich is a good friend, Sleepy Cuddles, Supernatural Convention, Third Wheels, Unrequited Love, i love them, it's two in the morning, kings of complication, theyre so stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-13 13:32:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18032660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaleschnueffler/pseuds/Shaleschnueffler
Summary: - "You know that I want to be with you all the time" -[...]-- "I'll hurt you and you'll hurt me and we'll say things we can't repeat" ---Ever since they've woken up that morning in Vegas; each day, things have been going a little more to hell for Richard Slate - luckily, he's neither willing nor ready to give up on his best friend just yet.





	Put Your Hand In Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!  
> First of all, I'd like to note that I normally don't ship - or create fan content about shipping - real persons. However, while the two characters in KOC are, in fact, played by and based on R2, I don't consider Rob Bennett and Richard Slate real persons, and was/am therefore not working against my personal standards (no hate, btw, ship whatever you want as long as you're being respectful about it!). Also, the whole series offered way too much material to work with and write about so I couldn't just NOT do it. I'm not sure if this satisfied my own needs but it was nice writing something about those two anyway~  
> I hope you'll enjoy it despite the slight OOC-ness you might encounter.  
> Enjoy~
> 
> Lyrics from title and summary taken from PUBLIC's "Make You Mine"~

\- "What's up?", Richard asked, happily, after he'd put the blue scarf he'd been wearing only a few seconds ago down on the nearest bed. The way Rob had informed him that they needed to talk should've unnerved him, really, but somehow, he was still more than calm. Happy even. He was in a great mood, okay? Everything had been amazing for the past few hours. _Everything_.  
  
\- "Maybe you should sit down."  
  
Rich hesitated for a moment, raising an eyebrow at his friend, but decided not to ask any more questions, and moved over to the edge of the bed with a clipped, slightly confused "Okay". Rob kept standing, shifting around a little while awkwardly rubbing his hands together. His eyes darted down to where Rich was openly fiddling with their wedding band. Rob had told him to take the damn thing off already, and so he had, but he'd kept it with him all this time. It reminded him of his friend. Of the fact that he wasn't alone anymore.  
  
\- "Gosh...this is harder than I thought it'd be."  
  
\- "Just say it, man", he responded immediately, giving his friend a short, encouraging smile. He knew what was to come. Rob would call him out on what he'd done, they'd talk about it, get everything sorted and their marriage annulled. Nothing special. Ever since he'd woken up that day, literally in bed with his best friend, he'd known that he wouldn't be able to keep all this going forever. Although he really couldn't deny that there'd been a glimmer of hope that Rob would eventually get used to the married life too.  
  
\- "Okay." There was a short pause in which Rob took a deep breath and locked eyes with the younger man, before he raised his voice again, words spilling so quickly Rich needed a second to comprehend.  
  
\- "I don't love you, Rich. I mean-- I love you, like a brother, but I'm not _in love_ with you."  
  
He felt a jolt of panic in his chest but forced it down. He was an actor. Pretending was his life. He wouldn't fuck it up _now_.  
  
\- "Uh huh."  
  
Well played, Richard. Fucking _smooth_.  
  
\- "I mean, what happened last night, I thought that was just some kind of drunken prank gone awry; but-- now, I'm... worried that it was something _more_ than that..." Rob awkwardly cleared his throat, gesturing around a little when he noticed Richard's unreadable gaze. "...for you."  
  
However, he wasn't even given a chance to respond. Not that he would've found any words anyway.  
  
\- "And I don't-- I don't want wanna give you...the wrong idea."  
  
Silence settled down. Rich took a deep breath.  
  
\- "Hmm...", he started, sorting his thoughts quickly before he looked up at Rob again, "What in _God's name_ are you talking about?"  
  
\- "I know that you filed our marriage paperwork with the courthouse."  
  
\- "I did it online, actually."  
  
\- "Rich! I can't handle this right now, okay?"  
  
The despair - and dawning anxiety attack - was clearer in the older actor's voice than ever, and so was the urge in Rich to get up from that damn bed, and hug Rob to his chest as tightly as he could.  
  
He didn't exactly know how they ended up talking about Rob's soon-to-be ex-wife again but they did. And when a forceful "Stop it." reached Richard's ears after he'd said something he apparently shouldn't have said, the urge to comfort his friend seemed to grow impossibly bigger. He shut up then, weighed his options. He didn't know how Rob had gotten the idea. Had he read his texts? His _mind?_ Rich rarely ever talked about this to anyone. And especially not to anyone that Rob _knew_ _personally_ , therefore. So how? Just _how?_

  
Looking up at his best friend, seeing him so lost, and confused, and nervous, he decided to keep his walls up. Just until the situation had calmed down, until Rob had both time and strength to deal with something like this again. Now was not the time. It wasn't.  
  
And so he got up, breathed in, and looked Rob in the eyes.  
  
\- "I don't love you, Robert. Not in that way."  
  
Things had gone up and down from that point on, but eventually, everything had turned out okay. He'd made clear that he wasn't in love with his best friend multiple times, he'd shown said best friend the horrible tattoo from last year, he'd explained himself, and Rob had understood, and offered him money to get the nasty thing lasered off. Things were okay now. Or well, they should've been.  
  
It was a year later.  
  
Rich had gone to pick his friend up again, just like last year, and he'd already expected to see him standing in the driveway, wearing a dressing gown and holding some two-months-old newspaper again - Rob had been more than a little attached to and dependent on his wife after all so he wouldn't have expected him to be motivated about the conventions starting again -, but once the car had stopped and he'd stepped out to ring and knock at the door, nobody had opened. He'd texted his friend, and had gotten a response only seconds later, saying that Rob was on his way already. Rich hadn't thought much of it, had been somewhat happy even; had gotten back into the car, and had made his way to the con.  
  
The first thing he'd looked for upon arriving had been Rob. Of course, it had been. He hadn't seen his friend in months now, and he'd been curious what exactly had made the anxious man leave for a convention practically the second he'd been invited. What he'd found - after literal hours of asking around and searching, although that had probably been his fault because he'd stopped and chatted with basically everyone he'd encountered - hadn't been as gratifying as he'd hoped, though.  
  
It was a year later. And Rob had a girlfriend. And he'd brought her with him. To a freaking convention.  
  
She was clingy. More than that even. She accompanied him basically everywhere. Rob even had to tell her to stay off stage when she made a move to follow him during the panel. The panel which had been the only opportunity for Rich to talk to his best friend freely without having some brunet woman interrupt him every ten seconds; and the only time when Rob paid more attention to him than to his girlfriend.  
  
Rich couldn't even really blame him - hell, he'd been in a relationship before and he hadn't been any different! Their love was young, and burning bright, and being apart for more than an hour probably hurt them both; but he simply couldn't stop the jealousy - or the satisfaction when his fellow actor, for once, didn't respond to his girlfriend's calls. He didn't even know which of the two he was craving more - a relationship; or being so close to Rob without seeming weird, or having to apologize. Probably both. In one package, ideally.  
  
As soon as they left the stage together, just when Rich had been about to make a joke, they kissed. Forcing a smile, the younger man quickly made up some half-hearted excuse so he could get out of there, but Rob didn't even seem to notice.  
  
The convention was probably the worst he'd ever attended. The panels were okay, photo and autograph sessions went by like any other, Matt was being a dick, and Sue was being a bitch. Things were relatively normal. Except for the damn girl who just wouldn't leave Rob's side.  
  
God, it was simply unfair.  
  
He didn't even want them to break up - well, of course he did, kind of, but he liked seeing Rob happy and he knew that a break-up, _another_ break-up, would destroy him now, probably even more than the divorce because Rich knew that his friend still wasn't completely over that - but was simply wishing that they would just keep it down when he was around so he, in turn, could keep his _jealousy_ down and wasn't forced to avoid the two of them at all costs. Because yeah, he was somewhat happy for Rob, but that didn't mean that he had to put up with them constantly acting on their feelings. Not if it hurt him like it did. He knew that he had to care for himself, too. But what could he possibly do? Walk up to Rob and say "Hey, remember this talk we had last year, when Sue told you I was in love with you and I told you I wasn't? Yeah, well, I kinda lied, and now I'm really jealous of your gf so if you could stop kissing her in my presence, that would be cool"? Yeah, no, not even an option.  
  
_Nothing_ was an option. _There was no option._  
  
And so he fought through. Suffered through all the kisses, and the hugs, and the "I love you"s, through all the things he would never get from Rob Bennett. Although he knew that it was the worst thing he could've done, to himself, to his surroundings, to the fans; because his bad mood affected not only himself but also others - some of them; of the staff, the community, his friends; even asked if he was okay multiple times, but not Rob. Never Rob, not once. And so he didn't respond - or not truthfully at least - to any of the questions regarding his well-being. It was his problem, his responsibility, his own business, and so it concerned him and only him. There was no need to burden others with his petty dead-end misery. And so he didn't.  
  
When the whole event was finally over, Rich left as early as he could, only saying goodbye to the few people that he ran into during his practical _escape_ from the convention, the ones he couldn't possibly avoid - and again, Rob wasn't one of them.  
  
  
\--  
  
  
It was a few months later that Rich was sitting at his desk, hands buried in his own hair, and half-open eyes set on the few pages of script he had laid out in front of him. Gabriel was supposed to have yet another comeback soon, and he was already practicing his lines. He was tired, and exhausted, his head and his eyes hurt, and it was almost _three in the morning_ , but he didn't want to go to sleep just yet.  
  
Of course, right then, right there, somebody called him. _In the middle of the night._  
  
Casting a tired, unmotivated glance at his phone, he felt all the fatigue fall off of him within split seconds as he hurried to accept the call.  
  
The second he picked up the phone, he felt stupid already - Rob was probably fine. Maybe it had been an accidental call. Maybe his friend simply wanted to talk and he was the only one available at the moment; or maybe Rob had realized that they hadn't talked in quite some time and was calling just to make sure they were still friends. Wow, he would've loved that.  
  
\- "Hey there, buddy. What's up?", he asked softly, rubbing a hand over his face as he started to realize that he'd probably _definitely_ overreacted again. Ever since the stroke, he'd been a little messed up; overly protective and careful. _Rob was fine._ Rich simply needed to get his shit together for once. A call late at night didn't always signify an emergency, or trouble of any sort, therefore. He should be happy about this, happy that his best friend had decided to finally contact him again but instead--  
  
\- "Rich?"  
  
Okay. Judging by _that_ , he'd _definitely_ been right with his first guess. Fuck. Sometimes he really wished he'd be mistaken about Rob's mental and emotional state more often.  
  
\- "Yeah? Robbie, you alright there, pal?"  
  
God, how he despised these impersonal nicknames sometimes.  
  
\- "Rich, listen, I know I've been a dick to you lately but--", a violent sob tore through his words, and Richard quickly raised his voice to take over so that Rob didn't have to speak anymore.  
  
\- "It's okay. I'm here, alright? I'm coming over right now."  
  
\- "Please..."  
  
\- "Okay, Rob, it's gonna be okay. I'm on my way, I'll be there as soon as I can."  
  
\- "Thanks, Rich..."  
  
\- "Always, Robbie."  
  
When he hung up, he'd already put on his shoes and jacket and was halfway through the front door, phone in one hand and car keys in the other. Without locking up behind him - he couldn't possibly care less about potential break-ins right now-, he speed-walked over to his car that he'd unlocked from afar some seconds ago, yanked open the driver's door with way more force than needed, and flopped down on the leather seat. In his rush, he almost forgot to put on his seatbelt, but remembered to do so only moments before he started the engine and pressed down on the gas pedal.  
  
Rob lived close enough for him to drive there now and then; but it wasn't a short trip, definitely not, and somehow, Rich couldn't deny that he was kind of worried that he might get into an accident, seeing as he was more than a little tired - and when he'd drunk that glass of whiskey about an hour ago, he really hadn't expected to get a late-night call from his devastated and apparently near-mental-breakdown best friend, frankly speaking. But if he was being honest, by now he was pretty sure that the adrenaline had expelled both the tiredness and the alcohol from his system. And it wasn't like he actually cared, anyway. He'd rather die trying than not try at all. And Rob really needed him right now.  
  
The thought why his friend hadn't called _his girlfriend_ only came to him about one and a half hours on the road later. The streets were relatively quiet and calm, and after having listened to his whole playlist for the second time, he'd gotten tired of the tracks, and had turned the music off instead. Now, he was left to his own thoughts and theories; and they were leading him to the assumption that Rob and the girl's relationship was either insanely superficial - or over. Rich felt a pang of self-hatred when he realized that the latter idea actually made him feel some kind of bitter relief, but he quickly brushed it off and focused back on the road ahead, trying his best to ignore the nagging thoughts in the back of his mind.  
  
It took him another hour until he finally reached Rob's place, and he could only hope that it wasn't too late - he was sure; no, he _knew_ , that his friend wasn't one to even _consider_ suicide, but that wasn't what he'd meant anyway. Rich was used to arriving at the scene of event way too late; namely when everything had calmed down again already; and he really didn't want to show up at Rob's doorstep when he'd gotten his shit together again and had called his girlfriend over for Netflix and Chill or anything...  
  
The mere idea was unsettling to him. Both because of the obvious awkwardness and the direct metaphorical punch to the face. He really didn't need that right now.  
  
However, he pushed it to the other thoughts he'd locked away in the back of his mind when he turned off the engine before he stepped out of the car and strode over to the more-than-familiar front door. Remembering the spare key that his friend had given him a long time ago - he couldn't even remember just _how_ long it had been -, he fetched his set of keys, looked for the right one, and turned it in the lock until it clicked. He could only hope that Rob, too, remembered that he'd handed him the keys; otherwise he might think that someone was actually breaking in, and honestly, Rich could definitely live without a second 911-false-alarm accident - _and_ without a panic attack on Rob's behalf.  
  
The whole house was silent, and dark. The sun hadn't gone up again yet, and there wasn't a single light turned on, or none that he could see from where he stood at least. Luckily, he basically had the whole place memorized, due to the many times he'd paid his best friend a visit or stayed over for the night. Making his way through the different hallways and past shelves, closets, and tables, he cautiously moved closer to Rob's own room, careful not to knock anything over in case his friend had fallen asleep - he tended to do that after all. Fall asleep after or during heavy downs or anxiety attacks, because he was simply too exhausted to stay awake any longer. Or because his medicine had kicked in.  
  
That really didn't mean that he was okay again, though. Rich had made that mistake before; had left Rob alone when he'd fallen asleep after he'd calmed him; but when he'd returned a few hours later, it had been to an even worse anxiety attack, and he'd had to almost violently wrestle the bottle of pills from his friend's hands. The thought alone made him feel uneasy.  
  
Therefore, his current plan was to check if Rob was even awake - and to stay with him one way or another, if his friend wanted him to or not. Because _something_ wasn't right, and he wouldn't leave until Rob had told him just _what_ that goddamn _something_ was. They'd grown further apart than ever before over these past few months, and he would do literally _anything_ he needed to do to make clear that he still cared about his friend, and that, no matter what, he wasn't mad at him. Or, well, not _insanely_ mad. Only a little, maybe. But Rob didn't have to know that.  
  
Once he'd finally reached the door that led to his best friend's room, the first things he noticed were that a) it was slightly ajar, and b) a light was burning inside, though it was only dim. He knocked softly and, when no response came, quietly stepped inside.  
  
\- "Rob?", he whispered, looking around and scanning the room until his eyes found the bed - and Rob with it. Curled up on top of the sheets he lay with a distressed expression on his face; his hands clasping the blanket, and with barely noticeable tear streaks on his cheeks that slightly reflected the floor lamp's yellow-ish light. The sight hurt Rich more than he would have liked.  
  
He moved closer, and crouched down in front of the bed.  
  
Just when he'd been about to reach out and gently shake his friend awake, he laid eyes on the bottle of anti-anxiety medication that was laying on the nightstand, open and some of the pills spilled; next to it an empty glass that had presumably - hopefully - been filled with water. Rich really wasn't sure if he would be able to deal with a drunken tired devastated Rob Bennett right now. Only tired and devastated, okay; but drunk? Oh boy. Maybe that was a little too much, even for him - not that he'd leave his friend alone, oh hell no, never, not ever; he simply wasn't---  
  
\- "Rich..?"  
  
The tired voice made him snap back to reality immediately, and he instantly turned to look at the man who was gazing up at him through weary, drab-seeming eyes. Seeing him like that only hurt Rich even more now. He missed the joy, the life, the happiness that always lit up his friend's gleaming blue eyes. Maybe he could bring it back. Not right now, but soon. He'd brought it back so many times before. The thought made him happier, kind of, lifted the weight a little; although he was sure that the heavy feeling in his guts wasn't going to leave anytime soon, not with Rob looking at him like _this_.  
  
\- "Yeah, it's me. It's all okay, I'm here."  
  
When Rob didn't respond and powerlessly let his head fall back to the mattress, Richard's senses suddenly went to high alert as he dropped the composed and happy facade and simply let his emotions take over.  
  
\- "Robbie, how many did you take?", he demanded to know, pointing at the spilled pills on the nightstand; and Rob gave a low chuckle in response that threw Rich off track a little as he rolled over on to his back.  
  
\- "Four? Maybe five?", he practically spat, eyes set on the colorless ceiling.  
  
A jolt of fear went through Rich at the words, and his gaze turned stern; he grabbed his friend by the shoulders and basically forced him to sit up straight. Rob just needed a push now and then - often a gentle one would be enough, but sometimes, desperate times called for desperate measures. And right now, Richard Slate was more than desperate.  
  
\- "Leave me alone, Rich!"  
  
It was obvious that Rob was past his "I'm feeling like shit and need someone to talk to" phase, and really didn't want Rich to be around right now, but there was no way he was going to leave his best buddy alone in a situation like this - sometimes the option one hated most was, by far, the most effective. And so he held on to Rob's shoulders, moved up so he could sit down next to him on the bed, and looked him in the eyes.  
  
\- "Listen to me. _You_ are gonna tell me what's going on now, and _I_ will sit here and listen, got it? No way past that."  
  
He would just pretend he hadn't seen Rob's attempted eye-roll right there, right before the older man spilled without even trying to object; clutching the sheets and squinting his eyes; to hold back his emotions, Rich assumed.  
  
\- "I-... Julie broke up with me. I don't know what I did wrong, I--...I tried everything, Rich, everything I could, and she just... she calls me, and breaks up with me. I don't...-"  
  
Upon noticing the way Rob tried to blink away the tears and turned away from him to hide his misery, Rich took action immediately - leaning over, he pulled his friend in for a hug, wrapping his arms around him without saying a single word. As expected, Rob broke the second he buried his face in the crook of the younger man's neck. He felt the warm wet tears run down his shoulder and collarbone, but he couldn't care less, simply kept holding on to his violently sobbing friend with his eyes closed.  
  
\- "It's okay", he mumbled after a short time, when most of the tears had been shed and Rob had stopped shaking almost uncontrollably in his arms, "You'll find someone one day. I promise you, okay? Just not now, Robbie."  
  
Silence settled down around them for a few minutes, leaving only their heavy breathing and occasional awkward shifting to be heard; and just when Rich thought that Rob might've fallen asleep in his arms, the latter raised his voice, words muffled by the warm shoulder in which he'd still hidden his face.  
  
\- "Hey, Rich?"  
  
Forcing himself to let go of his friend, Rich backed up a little so he could make eye contact with him, but didn't move his hand away from where it was still resting motionlessly but comfortingly on his back.  
  
\- "Yeah?"  
  
Rich was relieved to notice that Rob's breathing had gone back to normal. However, the relief was relatively short-lived.  
  
\- "You-...when you said you weren't in love with me...you lied, didn't you?"  
  
He closed his eyes with a resigning sigh, completely oblivious to the way Rob was looking at him, with an empathic and understanding expression on his face. Taking a deep breath, he began to stare down at his own fiddling hand. Maybe he shouldn't have kept the ring after all.  
  
\- "I'm sorry, Robbie. I know I should've said something, I really do, but you were just... everything was a mess and I didn't want you to feel even worse and so I-..."  
  
Before he could finish, Rob had already wordlessly nestled against his chest again, a small smile tugging at his pale chapped lips. And when his breathing slowly evened out until his eyes slipped closed, Rich found that maybe, just maybe, in the end, all the shit he'd gone through, had been worth it after all.


End file.
